


Home Is Where the Heart Is

by Deenerann



Series: Schitt's Creek- Meet Cutes Gone Slightly Wrong [3]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Continuation of Walk of Shame, M/M, Not scary, Trolly ghost is a troll, ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deenerann/pseuds/Deenerann
Summary: David and Patrick's cottage seems to have picked up an extra tenant.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Schitt's Creek- Meet Cutes Gone Slightly Wrong [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764997
Comments: 110
Kudos: 214





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was a quick one shot idea that turned into a few chapters because I literally cannot write short. 10k works IS short for me. 
> 
> This is fully finished and I'll post a chapter a day.
> 
> Intended to be a continuation of the the Walk of Shame world, but it can be read as a stand-alone since the tone is a bit different, and you know... ghosts!
> 
> One of my favorite genres is gothic horror/ghost stories. I love everything about atmospheric creepiness and solving mysteries and things that go bump in the night.
> 
> But, this isn't a horror story, so fear not. These aren't bad ghosts, I promise. 
> 
> Just a little excitement for these boys, pre-marriage.

David loved the cottage.

He loved it.

It was beautiful, and perfect, and looked like it came straight out of “The Holiday.” He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t adore the idea that he was living in his own personal rom-com.

Because he was. He _absolutely_ was.

Two years ago he’d have never believed in a million years he’d be where he was right now, with a successful store, a beautiful house on (very modest) acreage, and a gorgeous, amazing, very sexy fiancé.

He loved his life.

He loved Patrick.

He loved their house.

He _did_.

It was just… well, he’d been joking when he told Patrick they’d brought ghosts back to their apartment after that one horrible walk-through of what was obviously a murder house… but now? Now he wasn’t so sure.

Maybe they _had_ brought something back? Something that followed them to their cottage?

Or maybe… maybe things that seemed really beautiful and perfect on the outside weren’t always so clean-cut on the inside? Maybe something was already in the cottage before they moved in?

Because… David was pretty sure something _was_ there besides just him and Patrick.

It wasn’t anything _bad_ , per say. He didn’t feel like they were going to be murdered by some kind of Stephen King inspired scenario in the middle of the night. This wasn’t _The Shining_. He wasn’t being possessed and slowly driven mad—destined to chase Patrick around their yard with an axe.

Let’s be honest, it didn’t even get cold enough in Schitt’s Creek for him to die of hypothermia in the garden.

He just thought sometimes they had company.

It started with the flickering light in the stairwell. The one that they could never diagnose, no matter how many electricians they brought in. It would flicker so much that David thought it might actually induce a seizure while he was making his way downstairs, and that’s it. That would be the way he died.

He kept forcing Patrick to call an electrician—because Patrick was definitely better about boring detail stuff like that—but the minute any electrician walked through the door, the flickering would stop.

Just _stop_. Like it never existed.

No matter what they did, they couldn’t recreate the issue.

So, the electricians would leave without answering any questions, and the minute the door shut, the flickering would start up again.

After the sixth electrician visit, David finally yelled, “Would you please just _give it a rest_ for a little bit!”

There wasn’t any flickering for two weeks after that.

That honestly made David even _more_ uneasy.

Patrick was ever the pragmatist, though. A skeptic, through and through. He rolled his eyes at David’s theory, gave him a quick kiss on the nose, and called him cute.

David would have been offended at the patronizing tone if he wasn’t so addicted to Patrick calling him cute. It was almost Pavlovian at this point in their relationship, what it did to him.

Still, David could hardly blame him. He didn’t much want to believe it, either. He was _tired_ of believing it. He loved his house, and he just wanted to be happy living there with his soon-to-be husband and their little vegetable garden out back.

It was idyllic, and his version of idyllic did _not_ include ghosts, no matter how harmless they may be.

So, he went to bed, pausing below the flickering light on the landing, and sternly said, “If this is the best you can do, I’m definitely ignoring you from now on.”

He really should have known better than to challenge the paranormal like that.

When he woke up in the morning, the house was quiet. He glanced at the clock and saw it was only 7:45, which was very, very incorrect. Why the hell was he even awake?

“Honey?” he yelled into the silence, but there was no answer. Patrick must be on another one of his hikes.

He closed his eyes again, but after about ten minutes of tossing and turning, he just groaned and sat up. Sleeping to an acceptable time was apparently not in the cards for the day. Rolling out of bed, he shuffled downstairs and into the kitchen.

Patrick had made him a pot of coffee and David smiled, hugging himself a little with happiness.

It was the little things that reminded him every day just how lucky he was to have literally run into Patrick that morning, two years earlier. He could have stayed just five minutes longer in that random’s apartment and never have even _met_ Patrick, and holy shit… how different would his life have been?

He shuddered a little at that question and went to the cupboard to grab a mug. As he did, his gaze snagged on the refrigerator.

When they first moved in, Patrick bought a bunch of cheesy alphabet magnets, mostly to offend David’s sense of taste, but also because he legitimately thought he was being cute.

David let him continue to think that, so the magnets stayed put. They never wound up doing anything with them, but they never took them off the fridge, either.

Today, it looked like Patrick had broken out of their normal routine and used the letters to spell _HELLO BEAUTIFUL_.

David grinned and shut the cabinet. “Hello, honey!” he said brightly.

Patrick deserved a little kiss when he got back for being so cute. Coffee and a sweet message? He was the best soon-to-be husband _ever_!

David poured himself a big mug of coffee and turned back to the fridge to grab some cream. He nearly dropped the mug, too startled to even make a noise.

Every cabinet and drawer in the kitchen was wide open.

David screamed and sprinted into the back yard, his need for caffeine forgotten.

***

Patrick found him there about two hours later, laying in the hammock, staring up at the sky.

“What are you doing out here?”

David shrieked and twisted sideways, dumping himself out of the hammock and onto the ground.

“OhmyGOD,” he cried. “You can’t just sneak up on me like that.”

Patrick looked down at him, clearly biting back a smile.

“Whatcha’ doing, David?” he sing-songed.

“Have you gone inside the house yet?”

Patrick tilted his head. “No, I was coming around back to take off my boots in the mud room when I saw you in the hammock. What are you doing? I thought you’d still be sleeping.”

He held out his hand and David took it, pulling himself up into a seated position on the grass. “Yeah, me too. The house had other ideas.”

“The _house_ had other ideas?” Patrick gave him an overly fond, placating look.

David glowered, still annoyed and pretty fucking scared.

“Yes! It did. Go inside and you’ll see what I mean.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow, but pulled David to his feet. “Well, c’mon then. Let’s go see what you’re talking about. Did you find a moth, or something?”

“I wish,” David muttered, clinging to Patrick’s shoulders and scooting along behind him, peeking out from behind his neck.

Patrick laughed. “What are you _doing_ , David?”

“Honey, I love you, but you’re putting yourself in the line of fire for me. I’ve already taken one for the team today. I can’t do it again.”

“Must be one hell of a moth.”

They walked in through the mudroom, Patrick shucking off his boots, and then on into the kitchen. Once they entered, Patrick stopped short and glanced around.

“Ummmm… were you looking for something in particular, David?”

“This wasn’t me,” David whispered, staring at all the opened cupboards and drawers.

“Well, if it wasn’t you, who was it? The moth?”

“It’s not funny,” David said, his voice breaking. He felt like maybe he was having another panic attack. He rubbed Patrick’s shoulders and tried to focus on breathing.

“Hey, hey,” Patrick said, turning around and cupping David’s cheeks. “Breathe, baby. What’s going on?”

David grabbed him around the shoulders and hugged him tight, burying his face against his neck and only managing to let out a pitiful squeak.

Patrick let them both sink to the floor and wrapped his arms around David, rearranging him until David was sitting in his lap. “Baby, what is going on?” he repeated.

David shuddered. “I came down to get coffee. Thank you for making it, I love you,” David whispered. “I turned around to go get cream and everything was open. It hadn’t been open a second before.”

Patrick tensed against him. “I didn’t feel an earthquake. Do you think there was an earthquake?”

David shuddered and clung tighter, sucking in a shaky breath. “There wasn’t an earthquake. It just… happened. I got scared, so I ran outside.”

“David, that doesn’t make any sense,” Patrick said gently.

Irritation welled up inside him. “I know that!” he cried, pulling back and staring around, his breath catching in his chest. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but it still happened.”

Patrick’s eyes got larger… warier. “Sweetheart, do you think you could have been sleepwalking? Opened them yourself?”

David’s eyes narrowed. Patrick only used random pet names like that when he was either genuinely concerned about him or being condescending. He wasn’t entirely sure which option it was right now… maybe a combination of both?

David didn’t like it at all. It made him angry.

He pulled back and scrambled to his knees, putting his hands on his hips. “Patrick Brewer, you don’t believe me!”

Patrick reddened slightly. “David, you have to admit, it’s a little… unusual.”

“No shit!” David yelled, then looked around again. “I hope you’re happy,” he yelled into the air. “Are you _trying_ to make me look crazy in front of the love of my life? You could at least back me up here. Be useful instead of creepy!”

“Um, David? Who are you talking to?”

David waved his arms. “I don’t know. The ghosts we brought back with us from the murder house we should never have agreed to tour? You know, Roger and June? Or maybe someone—some _thing_ else? Whatever the fuck opened all this stuff.”

Patrick sighed and started to say, “David,” but there was a chorus of bangs from behind them.

David watched it happen and the blood immediately left his face, dropping to his feet. His mouth fell open and he could only squeak again, his hands flailing weakly at his sides.

Patrick didn’t turn around. Instead, his eyes grew larger and larger, watching David as the noise continued.

Then it all stopped at once.

Patrick bit his lip and met David’s gaze. “David, do I want to turn around?”

David let out a wheeze, on the verge of hysteria as he shook his head. “Probably not.”

Patrick closed his eyes briefly and turned anyway. “Baby?” his voice was very small. “Everything is closed now.”

“Mmhmm,” David agreed. “ _Now_ do you believe me?”

“What the fuck is going on?” Patrick asked, his tone bewildered.

“Honey, I don’t want to alarm you, but think we might have a bit of a haunting.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I don’t know if I can sleep with the lights on, David,” Patrick said, a small smile on his face.

“Well, the motel is booked, so you have to. I’m not lying here in the dark ever again.”

“David, this is our house. We’ve sunk all our savings into it. We’re just going to have to learn to deal with whatever is going on, and I still don’t think it’s ghosts. It was quiet for the rest of the day. There has to be a logical reason for whatever happened down there. The house is settling, or something.”

“Really? Enough to open and close all the cabinets and drawers at the _same time_? Totally logical, Patrick. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it first. And it was quiet for the rest of the day because we spent most of it in the garden.”

Patrick huffed, hugging David tighter. “Okay, I realize that probably wasn’t the reason. I just don’t know how else to explain it.”

“Ghosts.”

Patrick snorted. “That’s about as logical as the house settling.”

“I’m still not turning out the lights.”

“Okay, David. Can I at least use one of your sleep masks? I really won’t be able to sleep with how bright it is in here right now.”

David rolled over and opened his bedside drawer, handing Patrick a mask. “Here, but if anything happens tonight, I’m ripping that thing off your face.”

“Understood.” Patrick slipped it on, his smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I love you, David.”

“I love you, too,” David breathed, leaning over to deliver a quick kiss to Patrick’s smirking lips. “I hope we survive the night.”

“Me too,” agreed Patrick.

David snuggled up against Patrick’s side and wrapped his arms and legs around him, clinging. “Oh! I thought the note on the fridge this morning was very sweet, so thank you. I forgot to mention it with everything else going on.”

Patrick reached up and slid the mask to his forehead, propping himself on his elbows to look down at David. “Note? What note?”

David let go and sat up slowly. “On the fridge? With the magnets? Hello beautiful?”

Patrick stared at him a minute, not blinking. “One sec, okay?” He slid out of bed and threw on some pajama bottoms.

“One sec, what?” David asked, starting to panic. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll be right back.”

“No! You can’t _say_ stuff like that! I’ve seen horror movies! You’ve made me watch them! I know what happens now that you’ve said that!”

Patrick laughed. “David, I’m just going into the kitchen.”

“Where you’ll be murdered by a vengeful phantom! I’m going with you. At least if you die, we’ll go together.”

“You assume you’ll be murdered, too?”

“Well, I’m certainly not living this life without you, so I’d probably willingly throw myself on your corpse and beg for the sweet release of death to take me too.”

“Aww, honey, that’s so romantic,” Patrick teased, grabbing David’s hand and pulling him out of bed. “Come on, then. Let’s go together.”

“I’m not sure if you mean downstairs or to the other side.”

“I guess we’ll see,” Patrick deadpanned.

“That’s not funny, Patrick.” David grabbed his arm and they headed down the hallway to the stairs. “This isn’t funny.”

The light above the landing started to flicker.

“OhmyGOD,” David yelled. “What is going on today? I _hate_ this!”

“It’s just wonky wiring, David.”

“It is _not_! No electricians can find anything. It’s the damn ghosts, Patrick!”

Patrick reached down and grasped David’s hand, pulling it up to kiss his knuckles. “Well, either way, it’s just a light.” He dropped their hands to their sides, but didn’t let go, continuing to pull David down the stairs.

Once they made their way down the hallway, Patrick flipped on the kitchen light. Sure enough, the magnets still read _HELLO BEAUTIFUL_.

Patrick hummed low in his throat, turning to look at David. “Yeah, not that I don’t agree with the sentiment because I _do_ , but that wasn’t me. Does Stevie still have a key? Is she fucking with you?”

“She doesn’t. I wouldn’t trust her with a key.” He stared at Patrick’s face, trying to determine what he was thinking. “You really didn’t leave that there for me, honey?”

Patrick shook his head. “I wish I’d thought of it.” He leaned up and kissed David softly on the lips. “You _are_ very beautiful.”

“Well, thank you, but now I’m even more freaked out. If you didn’t do it, then does that mean that—that a _ghost_ thinks I’m beautiful?”

Patrick shrugged. “Maybe. Of course, since _I’m_ the one who is usually up first, maybe the message was intended for me,” he teased. “Maybe they think _I’m_ the beautiful one.”

David rolled his eyes, cupping Patrick’s face and bringing him in for a quick kiss. “You are very beautiful, honey, but everyone knows you’re marrying up.”

Patrick snorted and deepened the kiss before pulling back slightly. “I still say it was for me.”

As he leaned in to kiss him again, David let his eyes flutter shut.

There was a quick scraping sound from the direction of the fridge, and they both froze.

David opened his eyes to find Patrick watching him with a shocked expression. 

“I’m kind-of afraid to look,” he admitted.

David nodded. “Me too, but we gotta.” He leaned forward and kissed Patrick quick before taking a deep breath and turning.

There, on the fridge, instead of the _HELLO BEAUTIFUL_ that had been there moments before, the magnets now read _FOR DAVID_.

***

They didn’t sleep much that night.

No matter how much Patrick wanted to be a skeptic, the fact that something literally wrote a message to them as they stood five feet away was pretty hard to refute.

David wanted to gloat about being right, but being right about something like a ghost in their house was not exactly what he wanted from life.

Instead, they left the lights on in the bedroom and took turns dozing for a little bit—one of them on watch while the other one slept.

By the time they woke up in the morning—if you could really call it waking up—David was exhausted and grumpy. He sat up in bed and glared at nothing, staring around the room.

“If I get wrinkles because your creepy ass has scared me into not getting good sleep, I’m not going to stay beautiful for long. Just remember that!” he yelled into the void.

Patrick stirred next to him and chuckled. “Are you really chastising ghosts, David?”

“I’m very tired,” David pouted, both shamed and slightly worried about the fact he just yelled at something he couldn’t see.

Patrick scooted closer and laid his head on David’s lap, looking up at him. “Let me make you some coffee.”

“Last time I tried to get some coffee, that thing opened every cupboard and scared me out of my kitchen. I’m not holding out any hope I’ll get caffeine today.”

“Well, if that happens again, we’ll just go to the café, but I think we’ll be okay.” He sat up and kissed David’s forehead. “C’mon. Let’s get you caffeinated.”

David grumbled, but crawled out of bed, following Patrick out of the room and downstairs. When they reached the kitchen, David glanced over at the fridge and let out a little huff of surprised laughter.

Instead of the _FOR DAVID_ that they’d left last night, the message now read _SORRY_.

Patrick followed David’s gaze and snorted. “Um. Well. That’s… something.”

David looked around, trying to gauge whether or not cupboards were going to fly open at any time. Things stayed quiet. “Um… thanks for apologizing?” he croaked, then stared at Patrick. “I’m talking to nothing. I’m talking into the air at nothing. Is this what finally gets me committed?”

“David, if you’re going crazy, then so am I. We both saw that stuff happen last night. I can’t explain it, but… it happened.”

“What are we going to do?” David whispered.

Patrick shrugged. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t seem mean. Just maybe a little hung up on you. Which, honestly, I can’t blame it. You’re pretty incredible.”

David preened, then frowned. “Well, I mean, as flattering as that is, it’s still a little unnerving.”

“Well, I imagine so, but it’s clear it likes you. I’m not sure if it likes me, so think of how unnerved I feel? What if it tries to get rid of me so it can have you all to itself?”

David frowned. “Um, no. I will not allow that. I’ve waited thirty… something years to find someone I want to marry, and I’m not about to lose you now.”

Patrick smiled and flushed, raising up on tip-toe to kiss David softly. “Same. Now, let me make you some coffee.”

“Sounds good, honey,” David agreed. He heard a faint noise and caught movement out of the corner of his eye, glancing back at the fridge and freezing.

Then he started to laugh.

“Well, honey, I think we have our answer as to what it thinks of you.”

Patrick turned and looked at the fridge, his face flushing until the tips of his ears turned bright red.

The fridge now read _YOU ARE OK I GUESS._


	3. Chapter 3

“So, let me get this straight,” Stevie said, her eyebrows rising. “You think your house is haunted?”

“I don’t think, I _know_ ,” answered David.

Stevie snorted and glanced over at Patrick, standing behind the counter. “You’re encouraging this behavior?”

Patrick grimaced and met David’s gaze across the store. He shrugged and looked down at the ground, his cheeks going a little pink.

“Oh my god,” Stevie breathed. “You _believe_ him?”

“You weren’t there, Stevie. If you’d seen what we did, you’d believe it, too,” Patrick mumbled.

She shook her head. “Jesus. David is such a bad influence on you.”

“The _house_ is a bad influence on both of us!” David cried, doing his best to keep from flapping in frustration.

“So, let me get this straight,” Stevie drawled. “You have a flickering light, your fridge talks to you, and your cupboards are possessed?”

“So far!” David cried. “I’m sure it’s got more in store for us.” He was going to break something with the amount of out of control his arms were.

“Have you talked to the previous owners? I mean, aren’t they supposed to disclose hauntings when they sell?”

David stilled. “What? Really?”

“I mean, I think so? At least, that’s the impression I got from some of the house flipping shows I’ve seen.”

David stared over at Patrick, his eyes wide. “Honey? Did they disclose something?”

Patrick frowned. “No. I’ll call them, though, okay?” He disappeared behind the curtain into the storeroom.

Stevie watched him go, then turned back to David, raising an eyebrow. “This is insane, you know that, right?”

“I’m aware,” sniped David. “How about you come over tonight and witness it for yourself?”

“A haunting? What’s in it for me?”

“Wine?”

“Two bottles and you’ve got a deal.”

“Fine. I can’t wait until whatever it is scares the shit out of you, too.”

“Mmhmm. I think maybe both you and Patrick have been partaking of a little too much wine yourselves.”

“Get it all out of your system now, Stevie. You’ll see.”

Patrick came back out into the store and shrugged. “I left them a message.”

David nodded and headed to the counter, setting two bottles of red on the counter. “Stevie’s gonna come experience the fun tonight.”

Patrick watched her, his eyes wide and solemn. “Don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

Stevie snorted. “Your fiancé is rubbing off on you, Patrick. He’s like a lingering, irritating rash.”

Patrick rolled his eyes and glanced over at David, his expression going fond. “Well, I hope I never recover.”

“Gross.” She grabbed her wine and looked them both up and down. “Well, come on. Lock up this place and show me what you’re talking about.”

***

They sat on the floor of the kitchen, working on the second bottle of wine, giggling and snorting as they passed it back and forth. David snuggled up against Patrick’s side and kissed him sloppily between his neck and his shoulder.

“You’re my favorite fiancé,” he slurred, tracing his tongue up toward Patrick’s ear.

Patrick sighed, leaning into David’s touch. “I certainly hope I’m your only fiancé,” he answered, squeezing David’s thigh.

“Mmhmm. No one else wanted to marry me,” David pouted, then grinned. “But, thas’ okay because I got you, and you’re my favorite fiancé.”

“You already said that, David. Gross,” Stevie broke in, giggling. “Who even _are_ you? You’re so disgusting now. So in loooooove,” she teased, slapping at his arm. “Gross.”

“You’re just jealous,” David sniffed. “Maybe you should call Jake.”

She grabbed the bottle out of his hand and scowled at him. “Maybe _you_ should go call Jake!”

David rubbed Patrick’s arm. “Nope. I got a superior model.”

Stevie raised her eyebrows. “Better than Jake? Wow, Patrick. I’m impressed.” She tipped the bottle to him in a toast. “Good for you.”

“Good for me, you mean,” David murmured, nuzzling into Patrick’s neck.

Patrick flushed red and cleared his throat. “Thanks?”

Stevie sighed and handled the bottle to David before flopping onto the ground. “Your house is boring and I need to get laid. I could be out at the bar getting laid, but I’m here with the world’s most romantically disgusting couple, waiting for their house to supposedly attack, which it _hasn’t_. You are both fucking cockblocks.”

“You’re just jealous,” David snorted.

Stevie sat up and waved her hand in David’s general direction. “Please. I’ve had that.”

David grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”

Patrick snorted. “I’m sure you weren’t complaining. I’ve _also_ had this.” He squeezed David’s thigh and winked at her.

She flushed red and flopped back down on the ground. “Gross. As soon as the room stops spinning, I’m leaving. I’m going to Wobbly Elm and hooking up with the first guy who buys me a drink.”

“Sounds like a plan,” David agreed, sucking on Patrick’s earlobe and earning a gasp and a tightening of the hand on his thigh. “You’re cockblocking _me_ now.”

Stevie snorted. “I thought you’d be too afraid to have sex here now. What if the ghost _watches_?”

David’s mouth dropped open and he felt a little panicky. “W-what? Do you think it _would_?!”

Patrick leaned forward and scowled. “Stevie!”

Stevie grinned and sat up, staring David in the eye. “Yes, David. You’re giving a ghost a free show. Gay porn for the other realm.”

David gasped and clutched at Patrick’s arm. “Honey! We can never have sex again.”

“ _Stevie_!” Patrick repeated, his eyes widening. “Shut up!”

Stevie grinned. “There’s always the love room, David. I mean, if you can stand the thought of having sex with your fiancé on the bed where you and I—”

There was a loud scraping noise from the fridge and they all turned their heads to watch the letters rearrange themselves to spell out _HUSSY_.

***

When David could stop laughing he went outside to find Stevie.

Patrick stayed inside to clean up the wine she spilled all over their hardwood floor.

She sat on the hammock staring at the house with wide eyes. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders, still giggling.

“You okay?”

“Your house is haunted, David.”

“Yep,” he agreed. “I knew that.”

“I didn’t believe you.”

“Yep, I knew that, too.”

“What are you going to do?”

David shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, so far, that’s all it’s done. It seems relatively harmless, and honestly, sometimes it’s kind-of funny.” He paused. “And helpful.”

“Helpful?”

“The other day I was trying to make Patrick cupcakes and I couldn’t find the measuring cup. I looked everywhere. It—um—it opened the cupboard for me. Then it wrote _DONT FORGET BUTTER_ on the fridge. To be fair, up until that point I almost forgot the butter.”

Stevie snorted. “Um, this is insane. Did this stuff start happening right when you first moved in?”

He thought back and shook his head. “No. Not for a few weeks, I think.”

“What happened right before you started noticing stuff? Do you think it might be the remodeling? I mean, sometimes the ghost hunting shows I’ve watched say that if you remodel it can stir things up.”

“We remodeled before we moved in, and nothing happened for at least a month after that.”

“So, what changed?”

David shook his head, still too drunk to narrow down his thoughts. “I have no idea.”

“Well, think about it. Something woke it up.”

“Yeah.” He shook his head again. “I mean, it could be worse?”

“You probably shouldn’t say that out loud.”

David chuckled and looked at the house. “I love this place. I don’t want it to get worse. I think I can live with it if it just randomly leaves me messages. It’s like having a roommate who I never have to see. And who doesn’t leave dirty laundry lying around.”

Stevie nodded but smirked at him. “Seriously, though. It’s been watching you guys get it on.”

David made an outraged noise and stood, stalking back into the house. “Call yourself an Uber, you little B!”

Stevie’s cackling was all he heard as he shut the backdoor behind him.

He found Patrick cleaning out the rag in the sink.

“Hey, Stevie still refusing to come inside?”

“I’m making her call an Uber.”

Patrick snorted. “She’s still giving you shit, huh?”

David glanced over at the fridge and shuddered. “Do you think it really watches us?” he whispered.

Patrick turned and grabbed him by the shoulders. “David. I am marrying you in a few months. I plan on having sex with you until our parts don’t work anymore. I’m not letting you overthink this.” He leaned in close and rubbed his nose against David’s. “Besides, you’ve told me stories about your past threesomes. How would this be any different?”

“Ew!” David yelled, stepping back and shaking out his hands. “Incorrect, Patrick!”

Patrick laughed. “Baby, I’m kidding. I’m sure it’s very polite and leaves the room when we get—um—frisky. No matter where we are in the house.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to get laid!”

“Well, you were pretty handsy earlier and I may have gotten some ideas… but I’m serious, David. We are not going to stop making love because our house is haunted.”

David’s insides softened a little at the use of _making love_. Until Patrick, he didn’t know what that even meant. It was definitely different than fucking and he loved it. He didn’t want to stop, either.

“I know, but… Patrick!” he whined. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to—uh—focus if I think something is watching us. It’s creepy.”

The familiar scraping came from the direction of the fridge. They both turned to see new words spelled out: _I DONT WATCH_.

Patrick wheezed out a laugh and David squeaked, flapping his arms.

“You could just be saying that to get a free show!” he yelled.

Patrick leaned forward, shaking with hysterical laughter.

David slapped at his shoulder. “It’s not funny, Patrick! It could be a low-down, dirty peeping tom and just lying about this!”

More scraping, then: _PLEASE_ _I HAVE CLASS_.

“Well, there you go,” Patrick managed between heaving breaths.

David stared at the fridge and blinked. “Okay, fine. But, If I find out you’re lying, I’m calling in an exorcist!”


	4. Chapter 4

The days passed into weeks, and the ghost never got any weirder. If anything, it became more helpful.

Sometimes, if David and Patrick got too caught up in each other to clear the table before they stumbled their way upstairs, when they woke up in the morning, they’d find the table clean and the dishes in the sink.

The first time it happened, David stared at the neat stack and asked, “Didn’t feel like washing them, huh?”

He didn’t know what else to say.

Scraping came from behind him and the fridge read _NO HANDS_.

“Fair enough,” David said, then immediately retreated into the garden. As used to it as he was at that point, it still sometimes all got to be too much.

He thought a lot about what Stevie had said about figuring out what woke it up. Patrick finally heard back from the old owners and they’d never had any issues. So, whatever they’d been experiencing was something brand-new for the cottage.

David did an extensive amount of internet research and came to the conclusion that it had to be attached to something they’d brought into the house after they’d moved in… which honestly, could be anything. David had shopped a lot of flea markets since they opened the store.

When they lay in bed one night, David told Patrick about his theory, expecting Patrick to tease him and call him silly for even considering it.

Instead, he rolled onto his side and listened until David stopped talking.

“I think you might be on to something, David.”

“Yeah?” David asked, a little breathless. Even after a couple years, it still surprised him when Patrick took him seriously. No one ever had before.

“Yeah. I just don’t know how we figure out what it is.”

“Yeah, me either,” sighed David. “For once I’m regretting my extensive spending habits.”

Patrick snorted. “Hang on, I’m gonna need to write that down somewhere for proof.”

David slapped his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Patrick grinned and leaned over, kissing David softly. “Have you ever thought about just asking?”

“Asking? The ghost? Asking what?”

“Who it is? Why it’s here? Where it came from?”

“Do you think it knows? Isn’t there some kind of rule that prohibits it from telling us?”

Patrick laughed. “Some kind of ghostly by-laws, David?”

“I don’t know? Maybe?” David answered, his voice going high-pitched.

Patrick kissed him again. “You’re so cute.”

And there was that Pavlovian response again.

David sank into the kiss and they didn’t talk for awhile after that.

The next morning, David woke up to an empty bed and a quiet house. Patrick must be out hiking again. He sighed and rolled out of bed, heading downstairs. It was no fun to stay in a bed that smelled like Patrick if he wasn’t there with him. Plus, he needed to water the garden before it got too hot.

He walked into the kitchen and glanced at the fridge.

_GOOD MORNING_

David bit back a smile. It was weird that he was getting used to this.

“Good morning,” he said out loud. “I’m going to get some coffee and head out to the garden. The tomatoes are really coming along, but I think we might have a deer problem with the lettuce. I’m not sure what to do about it.”

He grabbed a mug and walked to the coffee pot. When he turned back around, the fridge read _MAYBE A DOG_.

David laughed out loud. “Have you been talking to Patrick? I’m not a fan of this unbalanced social dynamic. You both can’t bully me into agreeing to a dog.”

He took a sip of coffee and bit his lip, considering. “Hey, feel free to tell me to fuck off, but… well, Patrick brought up a good point last night, and—well—I thought maybe I’d try it. Do you… can you tell me who you are? Why you’re here in this house?”

The room remained silent and the magnets didn’t move.

David nodded. “Okay, well I just thought I’d ask. Sorry. Maybe there _are_ by-laws.”

He took his coffee outside to the garden.

Patrick came home a couple hours later, looking sweaty and delicious, and David pulled off his gardening gloves to yank him into a hug.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he murmured, kissing Patrick softly.

“I thought that was my line,” Patrick said, smiling against his lips.

“Mmm… well, I like you looking all rugged, so deal with it.”

“I like you looking all domestic in our garden. How’s the lettuce?”

“It survived the night. Did you tell the ghost to try and talk me into letting you get a dog?”

Patrick laughed. “What?”

“Mmhmm, don’t play innocent, you little shit.”

Patrick just grinned and gave him another kiss. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I love you.” He winked and turned to head into the house. “I’m gonna take a shower. I’m all sweaty.”

David rolled his eyes, calling after him. “We’re not getting a dog, Patrick! And I like you all sweaty!”

“I like dogs,” Patrick answered, shutting the back door behind him.

David huffed out a laugh and picked up his gloves, following him into the house. He needed a shower, too… and they really ought to conserve water.

***

For a couple days after David asked the ghost for answers, the house stayed quiet. No messages on the fridge, no random objects being moved around the house. It was just… quiet. Like a normal house.

David actually kind-of missed the activity.

Which was ridiculous! He missed a haunting? What was wrong with him?

It’s just… well, it had started to feel like a friend, almost. Especially when Patrick was away on his business trips. Which was happening right now. He was packing up for another one.

“I don’t want you to go, honey,” David whined.

“David, I’ve had this planned for months.”

“I know, I just… I don’t like being here alone.”

“The house has been really quiet lately, baby. If you’re scared, have Stevie come stay with you.”

“I’m not scared, and Stevie wouldn’t stay here overnight if I gave her all the wine in the world. I think she’s both offended and terrified.”

Patrick laughed. “Well, the point remains. The house has been quiet. I don’t think anything will happen.”

“That’s kind-of what I’m worried about, actually.” David sat up and picked at the bedspread. “You’re going to think I’m ridiculous.”

“I always think you’re ridiculous, David. That’s why I love you,” Patrick teased, then knelt in front him. “Hey, what’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?”

David smiled and ran his hand over Patrick’s cheek to tangle in his hair. “I love you.”

Patrick blushed, looking pleased. “Well, ditto. But, I don’t think that’s what has you so somber. What’s wrong?”

David shrugged. “I think I might have made it mad. I took your advice and asked it who it was and why it was here, and since then, the house has been quiet. I think I must have overstepped some kind of bounds I didn’t know about.”

“Well, then… maybe apologize?” Patrick leaned forward and kissed David softly until they were both breathing heavy, pupils blown out. “Fuck, I really have to finish packing,” he whispered.

David nodded, kissing him quick, then pushing at his shoulders. “Yep. You’re going to be late. We’ll pick this up when you come back home.”

Patrick sighed and stood. “I really love you, David.”

David’s insides warmed, his earlier worry disappearing. “I love you too, honey.”

***

Later that night, David lay in bed alone, staring out into the darkness. He was lonely and sad, and feeling kind-of maudlin about the whole situation. Patrick had made it safely to his hotel, and they’d talked on the phone until Patrick absolutely had to go to sleep, but it didn’t make David feel any better.

He sighed and opened his mouth, considering.

Oh, what the hell?

“Hey… ghost? I don’t know how else to address you, sorry. It’s just… I wanted to apologize for asking you to give me answers. Maybe that’s not how any of this works, but I don’t know the rules to this paranormal stuff. I may have fucked up, so if I did, I’m sorry. I’m not—I’m not trying to get rid of you, I promise. I actually kind-of like having you here. I’ve missed not having you around.”

He laughed and wiped at his eyes. He was ridiculous, feeling sad over a ghost.

“Anyhow, Patrick is gone for a couple days doing businessy stuff. I love that he’s doing this for us—for our store—it feels so domestic and I never thought I’d meet someone like him, let alone be marrying him. I never thought anyone would love me like that. So… yeah. Anyway, I’m getting off track. What I was trying to say is he’s gone and I’m lonely. I guess I’ve gotten so used to having you around that you being so quiet is really hitting me hard. I can’t have _both_ of you gone for the next couple days. I don’t like being alone anymore.”

He sighed again and stared up at the ceiling.

“When I was growing up, I was always alone. Up until this town, I was alone, really, but once I was an adult, at least I could fill the void with a lot of meaningless sex and people who wanted to hang around me for money and drugs and parties. I still _felt_ alone, though, even when I was surrounded by people. Patrick—well, Patrick changed everything. So, I want you to remember that when you’re giving him shit. He’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”

He thought back and frowned.

“I guess it’s not true that I was always alone, before. When I was really little, before everything changed, I had a nanny. She took care of me and my sister, but I think maybe she liked me a little more. Alexis—my sister—has always been more confident than me. She took care of herself, even back then. Or at least, she liked to _think_ she could take care of herself. I took care of her a lot when we were older, even after we lost all the money. Anyway, the nanny—her name was Adelina—she always looked after me, until my mom decided we were too old to need a nanny, and I came home from a trip and she was gone.”

He sniffed and wiped his eyes.

“I told myself it was okay, that I was old enough to not need a nanny. I think I was like eleven. Anyway, after she was let go, I was _really_ alone a lot. Mom and Dad were gone all the time. Once Alexis hit fourteen, she was gone all the time, too. I got used to it. But, there was this thing that Adelina always did for me that I remember. I was always afraid of the dark when I was little. Like really, really terrified. Mom heard from one of her actor friends that placating me would make me weak, so she forced me to sleep with the lights off. I hated it. Once everyone went to bed, Adelina would open my door a crack and turn on the hall light. I don’t think Mom ever caught on.”

He laughed, remembering.

“Anyway, after she left, the hall light stayed off and I learned to not be afraid. Mostly. I think maybe I am still, a little. Especially when I’m alone. I don’t have to be alone much anymore, thankfully, but if Patrick’s gone… I think I’d really like it if I knew you were here with me instead.”

The light above the staircase snapped on, casting a sliver of light into the bedroom. It flickered a little, then stayed steady.

David gasped in surprised shock, happiness and relief flooding through him. “Thank you,” he whispered. “It’s good to have you back.”

Then he curled up on his side and fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

When Patrick came home, David was in a much better mood.

“The ghost is back!” he chirped.

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “You sound decidedly happy about that, David.” He pulled him into a hug and breathed into his neck. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, honey,” David whispered, hugging back. “And I _am_ happy about it being back, actually. Is that weird?”

Patrick pulled back and watched him, his gaze roaming over his face. Then he smiled and kissed him, soft and slow. “You’re such a romantic, David Rose.”

David’s face heated up. “I’m a romantic because I’m glad a ghost is back?”

Patrick nodded. “Yep.”

“I’m not following your logic.”

Patrick smiled and shrugged. “I stand by my statement.” He grabbed his suitcase and carried it upstairs. “You coming upstairs to finish what we started before I left?”

Heat flickered in David’s belly and he bounded up the stairs after his very sexy fiancé.

Patrick’s answering laugh made everything okay.

Later, as they lay in bed, David running his hand lazily up Patrick’s side, he told him the story of how the ghost made itself known again.

Patrick listened, very quiet and still, until David finished, then he drew him into a hug. “I love you so much. I hate the things you had to deal with before I met you. I _hate_ them.”

His voice was so angry and resolute that David pulled back and watched his face, tracing his finger over his jaw and lips. “It’s okay, honey. You’ve made everything worth it.”

Patrick kissed David’s finger. “I don’t know that I could possibly be enough to make up for everything you went through.”

“You are,” David said, trying to put as much of his truth into the words as possible. “You _are_.”

Patrick nodded and pulled him back into a hug, kissing the top of David’s head.

“So, the ghost is back, but we don’t have any more answers than we had before.”

“Yeah,” David said, sighing. “It’s frustrating. I don’t like not knowing things.”

“Well, I’m with you there,” Patrick agreed. “I make more lists than you do.”

David snorted. “Let’s go to sleep, honey.”

Patrick made a soft noise of agreement, and David let his eyes fall closed.

When he woke up in the morning, David yawned and glanced over at Patrick, still sleeping peacefully. He looked beautiful, all pink and tousled, so David let him sleep in. He quietly rolled out of bed and pulled on some pajama pants, heading downstairs to make coffee for himself and tea for Patrick.

Glancing at the fridge, he froze.

_SOMETHING BLUE_

***

“What does it mean?” he asked Stevie later, both of them sitting on the floor of the love room as she cleaned and they passed a joint back and forth.

“Something blue? I don’t know. I mean, your fiancé basically lives in the color. Maybe it’s talking about him.”

“He didn’t know what it meant, either.”

“Huh. Well, I don’t know.”

David sighed, took one last hit, and handed her the rest. “I have to go get lunch and head to the store. I’ll talk to you later?”

She nodded and waved at him distractedly, glaring at the tiny bit of joint he’d left her.

He left before she could bitch about it too much.

Sitting at the counter at the café, he waited for Twyla to get their lunch ready, running through thoughts in his head.

“Something blue?” Twyla asked.

“Huh?”

“You keep muttering it. You worried about the wedding?”

“The wedding? What? Why would I be worried about the wedding?”

“Something blue,” Twyla said, smiling brightly.

“I don’t follow,” David said, shaking his head, trying to clear out the pot cobwebs.

“Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue," Twyla answered, smiling. “You know, the whole wedding thing?”

David blinked at her, his thoughts spinning.

She grinned brightly at him and sat the takeout containers on the counter. “Tell Patrick hi for me. And, for what it’s worth, David, you don’t have anything to worry about. Your wedding will be perfect.”

David smiled at her. “You think so?”

She nodded. “I know so.” She patted his hand and turned to head back into the kitchen.

David watched her, blowing out a surprised laugh. “Thanks, Twyla!” he called after her and left the café to head back to the store.

Once he stepped inside, he took their lunches to the back, blowing a kiss to Patrick over a customer’s shoulder and pointing to the curtain.

Patrick shot him a fond smile and nodded.

A few minutes later, he heard the door lock and Patrick walked through the curtain.

“Hi, honey! I brought you a tuna melt.”

“Went to visit Stevie first, I see?”

“How can you tell?” David asked, frowning.

“Your eyes are bloodshot.” Patrick leaned down and kissed him. “Thank you for lunch, though.”

David sniffed and plucked at Patrick’s sweater. “I think Twyla may have just figured out our clue.”

Patrick’s eyes widened and he settled on the couch next to David. “Really?”

David nodded. “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.”

Patrick’s eyes lit up. “The wedding thing!”

“The wedding thing, yes. Now we just need to figure out how it relates to the ghost. It gave us that clue for a reason.”

“Maybe it just is feeling sentimental because I’m marrying you very soon,” Patrick said, smiling.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t like you _that_ much, honey,” David teased.

“Whatever,” Patrick said, pouting, his bottom lip going out.

David grinned and leaned over, drawing the protruding lip between his teeth and biting down softly.

Patrick hissed, his eyes going dark. Pulling back, he shook his head. “We’re in the store, David. You know the rules.”

“The door’s locked.”

Patrick’s eyes flashed. “Rules are there for a reason, David.”

David grinned and grabbed his sandwich, taking a bite. “Your loss.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Patrick mumbled, back to pouting.

David laughed and squeezed Patrick’s leg.

***

When he got home later, the house was quiet. Patrick still had a couple hours left at the store and David thought he’d spend it trying to to figure out the clue. Why was the ghost referencing a wedding tradition?

“Hello,” he called out into the silence. “I’m back, and I figured out at least part of what you meant. Not all of it, though. Always cryptic, aren’t you?”

He sighed and grabbed the mail from the where the postman had shoved it through the door. There was an assortment of bills and a letter from his parents. He set the bills on the hall table and grabbed the letter, heading into the living room to sit and read it.

_Dearest David and Sweet Patrick-_

_Hope all is well. Los Angeles has been a dream and the movie is going well. Your father has been busy with the motels, as you know, and we’re enjoying the sunshine._

_This is just a quick check in to see how the wedding plans are coming? I left a bit of a surprise for you in the closet of the guest bedroom the last time your father and I visited. I’m sure you haven’t found it yet, as small spaces were never your favorite, but please put aside your paranoia and check now._

_It’s for the wedding and is a token of my affection for you both._

_Love,_

_Moira Rose, your mother_

David frowned and glanced up the staircase.

“Okay?” he murmured to himself, heading up to check out whatever his mother had left. Knowing his luck, it was probably the suitcase her mother had left her. Or a wig.

Walking into the guest bedroom, he flipped on the light and opened the closet door, looking for something out of place. There was a cardboard box on the top shelf, partially hidden under a folded blanket. David took it down and carried it over the bed.

He opened it up and pulled out a card on top of the packaging.

_For Your Wedding_

He smiled and opened the envelope.

_Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue._

_Your father, Alexis, and I wanted to give you a little something for each of these- Plus a little surprise for the last rhyme. Alexis says you’ll know what it means._

_-M_

He gasped and stared at the box, not wanting to unwrap the packaging, scared to reveal whatever was underneath.

Maybe he’d just wait for Patrick to get home.

He shut the box and carried it back down to the kitchen.

***

He was still at the kitchen table, staring at the box, when Patrick came home.

“Hey, baby. What’s going on? What’s that?”

David picked up the note and held it up for Patrick to grab. “My mom hid this in the spare closet when they were here last.”

Patrick grabbed the note, read it, and sank into the chair opposite David.

“Whoa.”

“Mmhmm,” David agreed.

“What is it?”

David shook his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t looked. I was waiting for you.”

Patrick smiled at him and held out his hand. David took it and squeezed.

“Well, I’m here. So, let’s open this up and see if it answers some questions.”

David nodded and pulled out each individually wrapped memento.

The first was from his father.

 _Something Old- Just a reminder of where we came from, son. Best wishes on your special day_.

David opened the small package and found a button. He snorted and handed it to Patrick. “From Dad’s first job, I think. I think you should probably keep this one, Button.”

Patrick smiled and grabbed it, tucking it in his pocket.

“Open the rest, David.”

David nodded and grabbed the next one, from Alexis.

_Something New- For when you and Button need help with your retail empire. Love you!_

He opened the package and found one of her business cards. He snorted, far fonder of the stupid present than he should be. He handed it to Patrick, who read it and laughed, opening his wallet to tuck the card inside.

The next was a larger package from his mother.

_Something Borrowed- This has always brought me luck, but I’ll want this back once the wedding is over. Besides, I don’t think you and sweet Patrick need too much additional luck. Many felicitations!_

He unwrapped it to find a bundle of hair, shuddering then laughing.

“What the hell is that?” Patrick asked, aghast.

“Heidi,” answered David, pulling out a wig with long, blonde braids.

“Your mother gave you a wig?”

“Technically, she’s letting me borrow it.”

“Um… what are you possibly going to do with a wig?”

David looked up at him and winked. “We’ll explore those options later.”

Patrick turned very pink and cleared his throat.

David grinned, but the smile fell off his face as he looked at the last package, a much larger one than the rest.

He opened the card, in Alexis’ neat handwriting.

_Something Blue- Mom doesn’t understand where this came from or get the significance, but I know you will. I grabbed it when we had to pack that horrible day. I stole it from you when we were kids, and I’m sorry about that. I wanted to be a bitch, but then I forgot I had it until I found it when I was packing. I meant to give it back to you, but I didn’t know when would be a good time. This seems like it might be it. Love you, David. You’re the best brother a girl could ask for. I know you and Patrick will be very happy together. You already are._

David frowned and wiped away a tear. He handed the note and waited until Patrick read it.

“Do you know what it might be?” he asked.

David shook his head. “I have no idea, but it seems like this might be the answer to all our questions, right?”

“It sure seems like it,” agreed Patrick. “So, open it.”

David took a deep breath and unwrapped the package. Inside was a faded blue teddy bear, well-worn and dirty, one button eye hanging down and stuffing sticking out from where an arm should be.

“Oh!” he gasped, dropping it and staring, tears springing to his eyes. “Oh!” He sucked in a shuddering breath and started to cry.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” Patrick pushed back from his chair and rushed over to throw his arms around David’s shoulders. “Is that your old teddy bear?”

David nodded, staring at it. “If the ghost is attached to this—then that must mean—that must mean….” He looked up and stared at the fridge. “Adelina?” he whispered.

He watched as the magnets began to move, rearranging themselves.

_HI LITTLE ONE_


End file.
